


Gentle Hands

by CrescentViolett



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/F, Fluff, Gentle Kissing, Middle Ages, Victorian, hand kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrescentViolett/pseuds/CrescentViolett
Summary: Petra has been preparing the Bigidian Games for months, and now that it's almost here she has to meet everyone... every single person that is attending has to be met formally, as the Games are for nobility.She loathes the formality of them kissing the air above her hands, until a young woman arrives on her doorstep without an invitation...
Relationships: Doropetra - Relationship, Dorothea Arnault & Petra Macneary, Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	Gentle Hands

It was a bright day in the Macneary palace, bustling with people from all over the world who wanted to either attend or participate in the "exclusive" - as the nobility liked to call it - Brigidian Games. Hour after hour was spent in the entrance hall, where Petra Macneary - the only child of the royal family - had to meet person after person; kissing the air above her hand with such grace it disgusted her.

It was all fake, she knew that - despite her advisors telling her otherwise. Nobody saw her as royalty; the name Macneary had already lost all of its status before she was even born. The people were mocking her, each and every single one only remaining polite because they needed something - not from her, but from the court. Some of its members stood behind her to make sure everything went smoothly, occasionally updating visitors with details about the latest affairs - as if the inheritor of the throne - and those same affairs - wasn't standing six feet away from them. She knew she was just a puppet to please the people that had grown to love her grandfather; her status and power were a façade to hide the corruptness of the council, and at the same time to make sure she could marry a noble from far away who could easily take over the country and set her aside once and for all.

After one particularly sweaty hand she had to clean off her own before she could even think of shaking any more. Despite the nasty feeling it left on her hand, it was the only thing remotely exciting about the entire day.

She looked lazily ahead, waiting for the next batch of people as she heard loud footsteps entering the room. Up and down her hand went each time, some people dragging it out to try and look into her eyes - but the usual bright brown irises had grown dull over the course of the day, making her eyes cross every so often to make the hall look new, like she hadn't spent her entire day in the same sunlit room.

A knight entered the hall after what she thought was the last portion of people entering the Games, only to announce that there would be more people coming tomorrow.

Before the princess could acknowledge that fact however, someone was guided into the room by another knight.

"Your Highness, this person says they're interested in participating in the games." The knight held tighter onto the woman's arm, much to Petra's dismay. "However, they do not have an invitation to show us."

Petra looked closer at the woman as she raised her head up.

Beautiful brown hair crowned the woman's head, falling to her shoulders in bouncy curls. Green eyes pierced the princess', her look full of worry and fear. Despite that her face looked calm, her body relaxed despite the knight holding her in an iron grip.

Petra cocked her head at the woman, who spoke up at once.

"Your Highness, I'm sorry to barge in like this." The woman let out a small laugh as she pulled her imprisoned arm slightly. "It seems I have lost my invitation along the way. I traveled far you see? But no rivers or mountains are too high to miss these Games. It would be a shame to not be able to participate in them."

The fearful eyes had turned cheeky, almost genuine - and Petra would have almost believed her as she heard the story, was it not for the fact the woman was wearing the most recognisable clothes sold in her own city.

But the princess could play that game too. "And what would it be you're participating in?"

"The end-of-the-night opera, your Highness, preferably every night." She tried to make a bow towards the princess, despite being held back by the knight who was holding her arm tighter with every moment.

"Every night you say? Could your voice keep up with that?"

The woman nodded, lips almost curling into a smile before she recollected herself. The woman's face was neutral at best, her eyes analysing the princess from head to toe as she tried to find out if Petra had believed her. Petra wondered why this woman wanted to be here - surrounded by knights and nobility who could easily recognise her as a fraud - instead of staying at her own theatre.

The motive of the woman was clear - she wanted to sing after all - but something about her attitude made Petra wonder if there was more to her.

A quick "let her go" was all that was needed to let the woman come close to her, curious eyes meeting hers halfway. Petra had no choice but to raise her hand towards the woman as a sign of formality, even though she wanted to get to know her so very badly.

The woman came close, locking eyes with the princess as she hovered over her hand for a moment, before closing her eyes and slowly raising Petra's hand to her mouth. Lips met hardened knuckles - toughened by years of training and hard work - and it was as if the world had stopped with that touch.

She hadn't expected the woman to kiss her hand, no woman had ever done so. Her lips were softer than the palace pillows, and the grip her hand was in was lighter than air itself. Somehow she felt almost safe in them, as if they could undo the layers of blisters and bruises and take away all the pain she had ever felt.

Her heart followed in her thoughts; not long after the lips of the woman had hit her knuckles it was pounding like the drums of war, beating inside her head like swords clashing against shields. It almost made her dizzy, was it not for the fact the woman had made her see clearly for the first time in days.

All the stress of preparing these Games was taken away by a single kiss; it was such a childish thought to run across her mind, but that didn't stop it from happening.

She had wanted to pull the woman close, to relieve her of all the stress in the world so she could only do one more thing; love her.

And as her brain finally caught up with the rest of her body, the moment was over. The soft lips had left their surface and the hand had let go of hers, now feeling like a dead weight floating in the air. Her heart sank at the thought of this woman leaving, and desperately she tried to make her stay.

She cleared her throat; there were still a few words she would be able to say to a woman like her.

"You have hereby reclaimed your invitation. I'm looking forward to your performances miss…?"

"Dorothea Arnault, your Highness." Another cheeky look played in her eyes, one that Petra would've loved to play with again.

"Very well, miss Arnault, I do hope to see you soon."

Lips curled into a full-fledged smile this time, one that Petra couldn't help but return. "Oh you will, your Highness."

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been edited by me, and please note I'm still working on punctuation.  
> This could honestly have more tags since I don't know when this happens, but it'll be fine for now.  
> Hope you enjoyed my little ramble about Doropetra!


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